


I found a dream that I could speak to [Lucien]

by pseudofaux



Series: at last [1]
Category: Mr. Love: Queen’s Choice (Video Game)
Genre: Established Relationship, F/M, Oral Sex, also she is gentle to her yan :), gentle (to HER) yan, gentle yan, he means well
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-11-26
Packaged: 2020-07-27 08:33:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 925
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20043025
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pseudofaux/pseuds/pseudofaux
Summary: Lucien/MC one shots, same couple throughout but nonsequential. Heavy on his yandere themes. Individual chapters will range in explicitness but M is a safe bet for all. Tags will be updated as I go.





	1. somnolence, and satisfaction

He doesn’t sleep much. He isn’t tired.

She, of course, is at her most unguarded in sleep, when all her softness is relaxed and her body moves slowly as she breathes. He has touched her when she is drowsy and when she is asleep and he can’t tell which he likes best— when she is drowsy, she reacts more: her eyelids flutter and in the lucidity her mouth sometimes seeks kisses. When she is asleep, her reactions are smaller but they are so natural he finds himself poking at her and cupping her cheek and holding his breath to watch her face. Her eyes might move under her lids, she might frown, she might murmur some sleep-secret. He has learned a lot about her favorite foods and creatives who challenge her at work.

Decadent in his blood lives the expectation that he will wake her up one day, observing her like this. Will she be startled? Will sleepiness keep her reaction dulled? He will answer the question he knows she will ask with a question of his own, and roll out of bed to hide the smile that hurts his face. She is adorable, she is **_ too adorable_**. All those feelings on display, all those defenses down. She’ll almost certainly go wide awake and follow him out of bed. Besotted as he is, he will pull her into his lap to feed her fruits and cheese from a covered glass dish on their dining room table.

* * *

_He has had better meals from this table. Just the other day he sat her down on the sleek darkness of the wood with little ceremony (beyond courtly kneeling before her) and used his tongue until both her dainty slingbacks fell off her feet. Their clatter on tile punctuated her gasps and tight little tugs on his hair. Magnificent from clinical, physical, and musical perspectives, and he rewarded her appropriately. _

_ When they share meals on plates at the table, it is pleasant. To her credit, she has proven a respectable cook. She is less shy of him these days, even more to her credit, and sometimes she manages boldness, which he **loves**, he can practically see the sheen of her wings unfolding behind her shoulders. To Lucien, she is delightful as she was, as she is, as she will be. He cannot help but adore her inner fire, steady and magnetic. _

_ Last month, as they were preparing a weekend dinner, she told him “Your hair is getting shaggy.” She said it easy as anything, free of all trembles and attempts to protect his feelings. She wasn’t even looking at him when he said it. He nearly came on the spot. As it was, he promised to schedule a haircut as his hand slipped between her apron and her blouse, and then between blouse buttons… and he ordered dinner some time later. _

* * *

If she doesn’t follow him to the table, or when they are finished with her midnight snack, he will return to her side where he belongs. The bed in their home is long enough for him to stretch out comfortably beside her, and wide enough for him to read white papers by lamplight without disturbing her. There is plenty of room, from bed or chair, to watch her until his own eyes make their peace with the black.

Some nights that takes quite a while. The time he sets aside to rest he would much rather spend protecting her sleep from outsiders. Because she needs protecting, even as she has grown to be sometimes bold. One of her hands is relaxed on their sheets, and the other holds his shirtfront in a relaxed grip. Her lashes kiss when something in her sleep makes her shift. He watches it all and succumbs to sleep when, softer than any blanket, the recognition settles upon him that he is her only threat, and so much sharper than anything hiding in the darkness. 


	2. A thrill that I’ve never known

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To him, she is a marvel.

She was a marvel. He despised the word “miracle” and what it implied from people who should have been better educated. But a marvel… he knew the meaning and he knew the math of it; the possibility of her was so statistically insignificant he wouldn’t have challenged someone calling her impossible, not unless he felt like being pedantic. To draw attention to the minute-on-paper probability of her existence was something he resented the thought of, because she was worthy of being marveled at. Properly. And he had never been a man who needed narration at museums.

No one was qualified to provide commentary on the marvelousness of her naked– in every sense– insistence. She tried so hard, so satisfyingly hard, to follow his instructions _and_ the sapling green path of her own initiative to please him. Given what he demanded of her, what could anyone say? Her will inspired _silent_ awe.   
  
The world and all the ants who crawled over it: mundane. Meaningless at anything beyond microscale.   
  
But she, sucking his fingers as she gripped his wrist in one hand and tweaked her own nipple with the other _just as he’d taught her_, perfectly tight pussy squeezing around him as hard as she could _and he could tell she’d been doing her exercises_ while he fucked her in the makeup room of a studio they weren’t sure was empty… her lashes like broken glass in the rain, all her skin calling to his teeth and his extremely limited inclination toward tenderness… She was something to marvel at. Not a miracle, but **_marvelous_**, by any informal reckoning and all calculation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I’m on tumblr as pseudofaux and on twitter/insta as pseudofauxtome if you’d like to say hi. :)

**Author's Note:**

> I'll add more Lucien stories here as inspiration strikes. This game/these dudes do it for me, and I do _love_ a good broad-shouldered, "smiling OR murdering OR both" type, so hopefully soon!


End file.
